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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729273">Promises</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashLord_007/pseuds/KPOPTrashLord-007'>KPOPTrashLord-007 (TrashLord_007)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yandere!Hongjoong Secret Admirer Valentine's Day Fics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band), K-pop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Office, Creepy, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Explicit Language, F/M, Minor Violence, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Secret Admirer, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Valentine's Day, Yandere, Yandere AU, Yandere Hongjoong, yandere ateez, yandere kpop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashLord_007/pseuds/KPOPTrashLord-007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Setting: Office.<br/>Day: Valentine's.<br/>Presents: Unnerving.<br/>Emotions: Disturbed.<br/>Admirer: Secret.<br/>Intentions: Terrifying.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Hongjoong/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yandere!Hongjoong Secret Admirer Valentine's Day Fics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The last (and best tbh) of the secret admirer Yandere!Hongjoong fics from the request:<br/>Can you do a Yandere hongjoong secret admire for your vday posts?? Ty💜💜</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    When you walked into the office bright and early, ready to tackle yet another twelve hour shift, the last thing you expected was an assortment of pink, white, and red roses encompassing your desk. Every inch was covered. Even the metal beneath was hidden under glass vases. Within a few steps of your cubicle, the sweet fragrance of fresh rose water lingered in the air. Petals decorated your computer, keyboard, and chair. A letter caught your eye, placed off to the side of your computer and resting against one of the vases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    No expense was spared on the stationery. The envelope itself was pristin, a soft pink exterior with delicate swirls around the edges. Then there was your name in what looked like gold, sprawled across the front in elaborate letters. You wondered if a professional calligrapher had written it. It was flawless, not a letter out of place and not a stray mark to be found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Upon opening the envelope, you noticed the inside was a darker pink. The letter itself was white. It was the kind of white that hurt your eyes; it was too light, too bright even. In direct contrast were the ruby red letters sprawled across the page. While not quite as immaculate as your name, the strokes and letters on the page were just as beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    From just a glance, you could tell that it wasn't rushed. You could only imagine how much time went into perfecting it. The scent of rose perfume, though light and almost indiscernible, wafted from the letter. Absentmindedly, your thumb rubbed against the edge as you held it between your fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The paper was soft, softer than it ought to be. Why people felt the need to use such elegant stationery was beyond you. Sure it looked good but the price tag on it was unjustifiable. It was the words on the page and the sentiment behind them that counted, not extravagance. If the words fell flat, then the letter itself was worthless and would be trashed, no matter how expensive the paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Sitting down, your eyes skimmed over the paper. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>My darling, </i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    did you enjoy your surprise? </i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    It's just a taste of what is to come.</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    Do be careful of the thorns</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    for the price of beauty</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    is to be desired, wanted, </i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span><i>    to be </i>coveted.<i></i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    Such beauty must be protected</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    with edges sharp and jagged,</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    as you must be well aware of. </i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    You're Aphrodite incarnate,</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    more perfect than any flower,</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    deeper and darker than any rose.</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    Thorns and all, you're a perfection</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    I wish to touch, to hold as my own.</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    Happy Valentines Day, my angel.</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    With my eternal love always, </i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <i>    your secret admirer.</i>
  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    There was a sudden chill in the air. To the very bone, your body felt cold. You trembled. You had no idea who this could be from. No one in your office had shown interest in you before. In fact, most of your coworkers kept to themselves. There were no family vibes here; it was purely work. No one cared about your weekend or your problems, so for someone to up and confess out of the blue like this shocked you to the core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A sudden confession from a coworker, however, beat the alternative: a complete stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    What if it's not even from someone that worked here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    An uneasy feeling gnawed at your gut. Security was tight but not impenetrable. You couldn't say with certainty that your workplace was secure, that it was safe. People came in and out all day. From cleaning crews to delivery workers to interviewees to partnership and collaboration requests, the building bustled day in and day out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    What if someone had been watching you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>What if they were watching you right now?</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Mustering your courage, you peeked over your cubicle walls and scoured the office. Sunlight was beginning to peek in through the glass windows. Long shadows draped across the desks. The office plants leaned out toward the sun. An eerie quiet filled the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There wasn't a soul in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You tried to laugh it off. Leave it to you to overreact like that over a silly confession. As if someone was watching <i>you</i>. People like you don't get stalkers. You were being ridiculous. If anything, this was all a big joke. It was probably meant for someone else in the office that just happened to share your name. It was a stretch, but not impossible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Your eyes flitted back down, gaze catching on a sparkle of red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Next to the letter was a box of chocolate wrapped in a ruby ribbon, glistening with the fast-rising sun. Without hesitation, you threw the box in the trash. It was an automatic reaction. Your limbs had a mind of their own but you weren't complaining about it. There was no way you were going to risk looking inside, not with this lingering panic nestling in your gut. You were raised smarter than to just accept candy all willy-nilly anyway, even if they were your favourites.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Wiping away the petals from your keyboard, you began to clean your desk when you felt eyes on you. You didn't have time to process how you could escape before someone's hand was resting on your shoulder. Spinning on your heels, you screamed. The sound was echoed by one of the few people you considered close to a friend here - the young woman who worked across from you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Once the realisation of who she was clicked in, your synchronised screams ceased. Bowing your head, you muttered a deluge of apologies that she brushed off, telling you not to worry. Hurried footsteps approached as more of your coworkers arrived. Concerned glances and confused questions were exchanged. There was a hint of embarrassment on your features as the situation dissolved and everyone settled down to start their day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    All you could do was clean your desk in silence, hoping this whole morning would soon be buried under the pressure of the upcoming deadline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    While your coworkers may have forgotten the incident due to varying degrees of disinterest, you couldn't let it go. More specifically, anxiety and nausea clouded your mind whenever you remembered the letter. It was now tucked away in your bag, safe and out of sight but that didn't stop your mind from returning to it. You didn't want to throw it out just in case this was merely the beginning of something worse and you needed it as evidence. There was a promise in its content, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The promise of more to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    With any luck, it was just a prank that no one wanted to own up to. Maybe it was one of your friends, even. Maybe they had coordinated with your coworkers to try to cheer you up with a fake secret admirer but once they saw your reaction, they decided to pull the plug. With any luck, that was the end of it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You've never really had much luck, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Changing speeds, you pinched yourself to bring yourself back to center and logged into your work email. As it loaded, you chugged down a bottle of water. Recalling some breathing techniques you found online for helping one through a panic attack, you figured it wouldn't hurt to calm down a bit. Your heart was still pounding and every noise had you on edge. It was detrimental to not only your mental health but more importantly, your work productivity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    With every inhalation, you were skimming through an email only to delete it upon your exhalation. None of the messages pertained to you or your project. Why everyone felt the need to keep you in the loop for the entire building's happenings was beyond you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    After the thirty-second email, your body was relaxed and you had abandoned the breathing exercises. Your mind was now wholly occupied with the looming deadline that it left no space to spare for the letter or your admirer. You didn't think you would ever be glad to receive such a disappointing status report but that was before wasting an hour on bullshit like company stock prices and a change in the benefits package. At least now you had real work to latch onto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Keys clacked as your fingers danced across the keyboard. There were enough stern words in your reply to relay your disappointment without coming off too harsh. You ended it with some advice and an updated game plan, which you also sent to the rest of the team. You fired off some more responses to the few remaining emails that actually required your attention. With a crack of your neck, you continued clearing out the mess that was your inbox, opting to just delete any that didn't seem relevant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    One of the most recent messages was from your direct supervisor. The title both intrigued and confused you but it wasn't flagged as a priority so you followed the order in which you received each email. You could hear the teasing from your coworkers in the back of your mind. They always had something to say about everything you did, especially when it came to the way you never faltered from your routines. It was all in good fun, of course, and even if it wasn't, you took it as such. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Your curiosity only grew until you felt certain you'd burst by the time the email reached the top of your queue. Still you couldn't fathom what it might contain. Your boss was more than satisfied in her career and had told you many times that she'd be retiring with the company. You read the preview over and over, savouring the suspense of the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    <b>Letter of Resignation</b></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>This is coming as quite a shock I'm sure, but…</i></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    Your mouse hovered over the link, ready to at last sate your curiosity when you heard some loud whispers from a few cubicles down. Like a masochist, you jerked your mouse away from the email. The suspense built once more, now fueled by the secretive conversation of your coworkers. Inching your chair as close as you could while still being inconspicuous, you listened. For the first time in your career, you felt interested enough in your coworkers to eavesdrop. You could make out words here and there, the conversation fluctuating in volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "-heard she wants to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Really? That seems a bit-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "-travelling around the-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "-out of nowhere?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "-know, right? And to just up and go-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Brave, or maybe just stupid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "I'm so jealous!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Shut up, you're being too loud."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Their voices fell back into a hushed whisper, effectively drowned out by the bustle of the office. You frowned. Was that what the email was about? Your boss wanted to travel all of a sudden? It seemed implausible given her personality but people changed and their ambitions and desires followed right behind. What was more shocking was how fast the news had spread. It had barely come through just a few hours ago and yet it was the talk of the office. Crazy how these things happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You slid your chair back in front of your desk and frowned at your screen. The surprise was ruined. The suspense was gone. Now it was just an email that contained bad news. You didn't want to read it and confirm what you now knew. At least if you ignored it, when she came over to ask why you hadn't accepted some of her responsibilities and added yourself into her future projects, you could feign ignorance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    What a pain in the fucking ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Like you needed more work at a time like this. As one of the members of the department that held seniority, people expected more from you than they should given your reputation and ambition. On top of that, you had been put in charge of your own team while your boss led the other slightly larger half. Had that been part of a test to see if the team could run without her? Would you be expected to take over until they found a replacement? You could feel a headache coming on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You closed your email and reached into one of your drawers to find some painkillers when there was another small commotion coming from the elevator. There were some 'ooh's and 'ahh's that grew louder as the source of everyone's excitement moved closer and closer to you. There was a loud cheer two cubicles down and then your acquaintance squealed in front of you. You raised yourself in your seat high to look at her over the desk dividers, abandoning your quest to find some relief through medication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Her eyes sparkled. A shaky finger pointed behind you before her hand covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle another squeal. You tilted your head to the side, amazed to see such an excited reaction from her. She was on the quiet side most days, at least that's what you thought. There seemed to be a lot of things you weren't aware of about your coworkers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Taking her cue, you turned around and came face to face with a bouquet of lilies. You stumbled backwards, your chair sliding into your desk with a light <i>thud</i>. A nondescript man held the bouquet, a tan cap covering his face in shadow. Your throat constricted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Was this the promise of more to come? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Could this be the person? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Was he so brazen that he'd come to you at your place of work?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "I've got a delivery for you, ma'am. Your boss said it would be okay to deliver it straight to your desk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Oh, um, sure."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Please sign this and I'll bring the rest up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "The… rest?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Yes, ma'am, the rest." He watched as you skimmed over the form before signing it. "Thank you. I'll be right back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He handed you the bouquet before disappearing down the hall. Your mind was racing in tune with your heart. It felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching you. No matter how much you tried to repress it, nerves got the better of you. Heat crawled across your skin, burning your face and neck. Taking a deep breath, you tried to focus on anything but your current situation. Refusing to tear your gaze away from the bouquet in your hand and acknowledge the inquisitive looks, you blocked everything out except the flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    God, the lilies were beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The rolling of a cart snapped you out of your reverie. Every second marked another rotation of the wheels. There was a soft click on each cycle, perhaps from a loose screw or debris on the wheel. It inched closer and closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the man once again standing behind you. Now he had a cart in tow filled from edge to edge with flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    With an exasperated sigh, you turned to him. There was a small crowd loitering near the water filter. A few people leaned over the desk dividers to get a proper look at the scene. It was getting ridiculous now and yet you still felt yourself blushing an even darker shade of red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The man gestured toward the cart. Inside were a plethora of vases and flowers that resembled your surprise from the morning. You had moved the first set into the break room, decorating the drab room with a splash of colour. You had even included a note stating they were free to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Did your secret admirer know?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Had they seen what you did?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Were they watching you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You spoke in a hushed whisper, more than well aware that your office was watching you. "Please return this to the sender."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Sorry ma'am, no can do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "What? Why not?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "It's an anonymous delivery. We have no one to return it to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Then you just keep it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "That'd be pretty immoral of me, ma'am."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And with that the conversation ended. He unloaded the cart's content onto your desk, arranging the flowers in such a way that left them crowding your monitor but not actually in your way. Without sparing another word or even a glance, he left you alone with the 'gift' and a medium-sized envelope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Against your better judgment, you opened it. There was no note inside but there was an iPod. An iPod and nothing else. Your mouth fell open. It had been years since you'd even seen one. Who just up and decides to give an iPod to someone anyway? You'd feel a tinge guilty if you threw it away without at least checking its contents so you turned the device on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    As it booted up, you pushed the vases as close to the edge of the desk as you could without them falling off. You debated moving them to the break room as well but decided against it, just in case the person was actually watching. You could put up with them for a day then remove them tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It wasn't like they were hard on the eye or in your way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The iPod loaded up rather fast. You wondered if it was a newer model. Back in the day, yours never turned on that fast. Realising you were procrastinating, you opened the Library. There was a single playlist. It bore your name so you clicked it, ignoring the alarms blaring in your subconscious. Inside were ten songs with no artist name:</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    <b>Every Breath You Take (Cover)</b></span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Unrequited Love</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Distance Between Two Hearts</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Inescapable</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Bleeding Love (Cover)</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    On My Mind</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Whispers In The Dark</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    One Way Or Another (Cover)</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Just Us Two</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <b>    Forever </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    Your hand flew up to cover your mouth. There was an unsettling air to it all that made you nauseous. What prompted you to play it was beyond you and yet there you were, starting the playlist. The beginning played aloud, the instrumental filling your cubicle. Suspense riddled you, leaving you on the edge of your seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Would you recognise his voice? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>Every breath you take</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>and every move you make,</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You hadn't a clue who it could be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>Every bond you break, every step you take,</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Not a fucking clue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>I'll be watching you.</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The first cover finished and you were still drawing a blank. You didn't recognise the voice at all. All you could gather was that your admirer was more than likely a man and his voice wasn't all that bad. You hadn't expected to be able to identify the person just by their voice but you thought you would at least get a feeling or a vague suspicion, maybe enough to create a mental list of possibilities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You were left with nothing except chills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The next song didn't say it was a cover so you decided to let it play. Perhaps his original song would give you an insight into who he was. If nothing else, it might give you a look into his mental state. Even a scrap would be better than the nothing you were working with now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "You're so lucky!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Startled by her loud squeal, you slammed into your desk. Your coworker was peering over the divider, her head resting in the palms of her hands. Her eyes sparkled and a small smile rested on her face. Based on her dreamy expression, you could tell she was far, far away, lost in her own thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Your boyfriend is so romantic! Imagine someone loving you so much they made a song for you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A second voice came from behind you. An arm rested on your chair while the other found purchase on your desk. A woman you didn't recognise leaned forward, invading your personal space. She smelled of apples, cherry blossoms and coffee. Her gaze was fixated on the iPod while yours was on her, dumbfounded by how bold she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Snapping out of your stupor, you tried to correct her completely false assumptions. "Oh, I don't ha-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "What?! Ten songs! Aish, what a catch. His voice is so hot, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "It's not like-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Your life is really coming together these days! I'm so jealous!" You tried to correct her again, going as far as clearing your throat and resting your hand on her shoulder but she still ignored you, her focus falling on your boss's office. "Oh, shit. Hawk eyes has seen me. Talk later!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Like a whirlwind, she had come and gone. You didn't even know her name. She had never spoken to you before. You stared ahead of you at nothing in particular for several minutes before you remembered your upcoming deadline. Turning the iPod off and plunging your cubicle back into silence, you cracked your knuckles and loaded your work project. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Nestled between the roses lay your bouquet of lilies. Every few minutes you found yourself looking at them, admiring their beauty. After an hour of broken productivity, you decided enough was enough. It was just a bunch of flowers, for fucks sake. They didn't deserve your attention, not when the sender was such a goddamn creep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You threw the lilies in the trash and gave your whole, undivided attention to your project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    As most of the office had started the day early, people began to clock out around four. It was a busy time of year and a large project had come in so it was expected that everyone put in extra hours. Of course, some put in more than others. You were one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You had hit your ten hour mark but, knowing you were the fastest at filling out the forms and submitting the paperwork as well as filing the requests through the new system, you were planning on staying for quite a bit longer. There was no point in other's wasting their time on the project at this point, not when you could complete their workload and your own in half the time. Besides, they'd pay it forward later on the parts of the project you struggled with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There were many 'thank you!'s and 'you'll always be my favourite!' as your coworkers left, often in groups, over the course of two hours. By six o'clock, you were alone. Even your boss had left, trusting in your abilities wholly. You were too engrossed in your tasks to offer her more than a goodbye, though she had seemed to want to discuss something. You had missed her 'I'll miss her' as she walked past you to the elevators, too focused on polishing and submitting one of the larger files of your project to hang onto her every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    By the time seven rolled around, most of the smaller components of the project were done. With a crack of the neck and a yawn, you stared off into one of the dark corners of the room. The lights were motion activated and as you had remained seated far too long, darkness surrounded everything outside the bright glare of your computer screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Turning around, you observed the room through the convex mirror in the corner of the room. There was, of course, nothing there. The room was empty aside from yourself. Not that that surprised you. You were here alone, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It was high time you stretched your legs, you decided. There was only so much you could take before you went a bit stir-crazy. Setting a brisk pace, you made your way down the hall toward the break room and bathrooms. The office lights flickered back on. You weren't uneasy in the dark but they did help to wake you up, the brightness stinging your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    By the time you returned, the lights were off again. They didn't turn on as you walked, which came across as odd but not impossible. Sometimes the lights picked up on as small a movement as your hand reaching for the mouse while other times they didn't sense you leaning back to drop papers off across the way on the other team's project coordinator's desk. It just happened like that sometimes so you waved your hand above your head while retaining your pace, the additional movement more than enough to trigger the sensor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    They remained off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Uneasiness crawled up the expanse of your throat from the pit of your stomach. It was only fueled by the paranoid voice in the back of your mind that reminded you of your 'secret admirer' and their promise. You cursed yourself for even thinking about it at a time like this. You were alone in the dark and yet here you were thinking about those creepy songs and that damn letter. Irrational fear possessed you as you took greater, almost running strides toward your cubicle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And still the lights remained off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You didn't believe in tempting fate and there seemed to be a pretty fucking clear message being conveyed here: it was time for lights out. Perhaps this was the universe's way of telling you to rest or perhaps there was a power outage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Either way, you had put in over thirteen hours already. What remained could be finished in the morning or by someone else (if you were lucky which, again, you never were). There wasn't much left so you told yourself not to feel guilty but it was easier said than done. You had committed to finishing it all and you didn't want to let your coworkers down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A promise is a promise, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Yet even with mindset, the very idea of staying in this building a moment later had you on the verge of throwing up. Was it just a new energy conservation measure? If you had read that damn company newsletter, maybe this situation would have a different vibe. You might even laugh about it, telling everyone tomorrow how creepy the office became after "lights out". </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And how creepy it was with its moving shadows and breathy whispers floating down through the ventilation system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There was also the possibility that you'd be laughing about this tomorrow anyway - perhaps it was part of a prank being played on you. What you wouldn't give to have a normal prank like an unscrewed salt shaker or even your desk being wrapped in saran wrap. This joke was a bit cruel and had gone too far for too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Somewhere deep inside you knew better, you knew this was no prank and you knew you had to <i>run</i>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You buried the thought deeper, hiding it behind your fantasy of safety and security. Anxiety gnawed away at you, growing with every step closer to your desk. You tried to bury that too but it wouldn't disappear. It only grew. It grew and grew until you couldn't ignore it anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    No longer could you deny that there was something off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The lights were still out and your eyes were playing tricks on you. The furniture was starting to look alive. Every shadow's length increased only to decrease in synchronisation with the clouds that crawled across the sky. The moonlight that trickled in did naught to lighten the room or your fears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There was something seriously wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Fuck, you'd sooner go home, get a couple hours of sleep in and come back early tomorrow rather than than deal with this. Your mind was playing tricks on you at this point. Undoubtedly you needed rest. You couldn't see shit even when you squinted but you could swear you felt someone watching you. When you turned to check, you were met with only pitch-black corners and plants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    So, so many plants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Why were there so many fucking plants in this hellhole anyway? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>Were</i> there always that many plants?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Why couldn't you remember something you saw everyday?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    But more importantly, did that plant move?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>Was that even really a plant?</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You trained your eyes on it and watched for a single sign of life, for any sign of movement. Minutes wasted away. There wasn't even a breeze from the heater. The ventilation systems quieted down. The air froze in anticipation. Not a single leaf twitched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The plant was indeed a plant and a very immobile one at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You laughed shakily. Your imagination was a mess which only confirmed your need to call it a night. There was only one set of desks left to pass before you reached yours. You'd save your work, pack up your belongings, and get the hell out of dodge. Then you'd go home, sleep it off, and joke about this mini nightmare of your own creation tomorrow. It was as simple as that. You sighed, taking in a large breath and turned the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Goosebumps exploded across your skin in a direct response to the shiver that tore through your entire body. Even with your computer monitor asleep, you could see the outlines of boxes on your desk. It was even more crowded now. Either your keyboard had been pushed aside or it was covered. There didn't seem to be a single space open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Your feet carried you forward until you stood before the assortment of gifts. There was a bottle and some heart-shaped boxes and then another, smaller box in the middle of the desk. It was surrounded by the other items, staged to be the center piece. Without much light, it was hard to make anything out beyond assumptions but you feared your guess all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Reaching forward to pick up the smaller of the boxes, your arm brushed into the large, cold bottle which in turn nudged the mouse. Springing to life, your screen illuminated the spread of gifts: chocolates, chilled red wine, some teddy bears hidden between the vases, an essential oil massage pack and… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    a ring box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Dropping the box, you gasped. Your guess had been correct and your fears substantiated. It rolled across the ground, lodging itself under your desk. It was lost to you now, you decided. There was no way you were going down there to grab something you didn't even want. You were going to save your files and get the fuck out of dodge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You were in for yet another surprise when, with one hand frozen on top of the mouse, you gazed upon your screen and read a note written in large, bolded letters:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <b>Were my gifts not good enough?</b></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The words sent a chill down your spine. Your heartbeat sped up as you reread the message over and over. The more you stared, the less you understood. For every question answered, three more would take their place. You pulled away from the computer but your hand was still paralyzed with fear. Dragging the mouse off the table, your eyes snapped down to watch it dangle helplessly off the edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It was happening. This whole time your paranoia had been justified. This <i>wasn't</i> some prank. Your secret admirer <i>did</i> have full access to your office. He <i>was</i> watching your every movement. Rejecting his gifts <i>did</i> upset him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Now he was here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    <i>He was here.</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Somewhere inside this office, the man was lurking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He was watching you even now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Adrenaline kickstarted your body into action, your muscles screaming in retaliation. Rational thought abandoned you. You needed to <i>run</i>. There was a threat here and your primal instincts told you to <i>escape</i>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Without thinking, you jolted backwards. Chemicals were flooding your veins and though there was a haze preventing any logical reasoning from taking foothold, your senses were crystal clear. You felt yourself falling before you felt the chair meet the back of your knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    In your haste to flee, you had forgotten your desk chair was a mere few inches behind you. You fell down heavy into its padded cushions. Even seated, your body was ready to pounce into action. Your arms shook, fingernails digging crescents into the chair. Jittery, you scrambled to stand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The computer monitor went dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Your body picked up in its urgency while your mind slowed in order to process the sudden darkness. Sinking back into the chair, you struggled to comprehend what it was exactly you were seeing. Leaning forward, you squinted your eyes at the screen. You stared, seeing but not understanding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Something was different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The shadows, the cubicles, the moonlight breaking through the clouds and the plants off in the distance decorated the edges of the screen, then closer to the center was your chair, your keyboard, and of course yourself…  but there was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It was the sight you expected to see. It was a sight you <i>had</i> seen many nights before. Any time you stayed so late you fell asleep at your desk, the same sight greeted you when you woke up and found your computer had joined you in slumber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And yet, there was something different this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Then you saw it, blurry and indistinct from the monitor's reflection of the convex mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There was a figure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    No, there was a <i>man</i>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He stood stock still, hidden in a sort of blind spot behind you. There was something in his hand but you couldn't make it out. His clothes were dark to match the shadows around you. Now that you were aware of his presence, you could sense him. You could smell his cologne, though faint and somehow very familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He was so close you could hear him breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You couldn't stop the soft whimper falling from your lips. Without a doubt he heard it, just as he would have seen how your body tensed. One needn't be acute to sense the shift in your demeanor. Like an open book, he read your temperament change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Before you had a chance to scream, his hand clamped down over your mouth. You soon realised the item in his hand was a damp handkerchief. It had a sickly sweet aroma, pleasant and unique. You could almost taste it, like candy on your lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Weariness cascaded over your every nerve. A thick fog began to roll in, clouding your mind. Your head lulled back, hitting the chair's headrest. You fought to keep your eyes open. They felt heavy, as did the rest of your body. Struggling to focus, you locked in on the figure above you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He loomed over you for what seemed like a thousand miles. His hair was ablaze in brilliant reds. There weren't just stars in his eyes but entire galaxies, endless and dark. His skin appeared cold in its smoothness, nary an imperfection in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Perhaps it was just your mental state and the drugs taking effect, but he looked like the most angelic demon you imagined possible. Hell walked behind him, following in his every footstep and yet you saw a slice of heaven in his smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    God, he was ethereal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "I bought you all your favourite things, why did you throw them away?" He chuckled when you grabbed his arm, tugging at the rag covering your mouth. Your effort was high but the actual output was weak, your body succumbing to the chloroform's effects. His thumb caressed your cheek. "It's no use. It's too late. You're already too far gone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Lurching forward, your chest puffed out as you tried to prove him wrong. He was right of course but all the same, you wanted to make him wrong. Your back arched and your legs flailed while you began to slide under the desk. One of your shoes slipped off from the exertion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Don't fight. You'll only hurt yourself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    You continued to sink further down, your body and mind tumbling toward darkness at a steady, inescapable pace. Under the desk, your bare foot caught on the ring box. It reignited your fire. You had no intention to let this creep win, not without leaving at least a mark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He was beyond observant, however, almost to an inhuman degree. He noticed even the slightest changes. Before your lagging brain could formulate a plan, he had a solution to mitigate it. Before your exhausted body could make a move, he had already countered it. He was always a step ahead, though in your current state his steps seemed much larger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "It'll be easier for you if you just sleep, baby. It'll all be better when you wake up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    No matter how much you tried to lift your arm, it wouldn't move. Even when your muscles quit and your body stilled, your mind held on. You wanted to scream. Frustration burned within the remaining splotches of consciousness. Still you held on and still you fought, desperation overwhelming you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Out of pure spite, you kept your eyes open. You refused to sleep, no matter how fucked up the chloroform had made you. From your head to your toes, you ached. Your brain was on the edge of a breakdown. You couldn't feel your fingers or toes. Every time your eyes drifted a little too close to shutting, you didn't think you could stave off the urge to sleep any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "You're a fighter. I respect that." He lifted you into his arms. Your head snapped back and dangled at a sharp angle. Your line of sight included the ceiling and his profile. Even from this angle, he looked otherworldly. "Don't worry. I've got you, baby." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    His voice was soft. Every word spoken was full of tenderness. It sickened you. You stared beyond him at the ceiling, counting the tiles that passed overhead until your last speck of defiance deserted you and you fell backwards into unconsciousness. Every one of your senses faded out together, your vision turning black as you heard his last words like a distant echo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "I've got you now and I won't let you go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A promise is a promise, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span></span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have one of those battery-run fragrance things and it went off at like 12am while I worked on this and it scared the hell out of me. </p><p>To my sister - look, another long-winded story where the idol doesn't come into it for a few thousand words lololol I'M SORRY</p><p>Screw you guys, iPods are still relevant. </p><p>I didn't really have time to continue it from here but I might get to writing more in the future? Since he was barely in it. Maybe. I have a lot on my to-do list :(</p><p>ALSO ANYONE CAN GET A STALKER! Please be smart and safe with your social interactions and if something makes you uncomfortable, follow your gut!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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